Poetry, through of me. Very. Novel in that it’s new. Everything will be novel at some point to someone. What I read that I wrote years ago now seems young and naïve to me. “Avoid quotes because someone will always have said it better.” Everyone should have the freedom to express their minds through their words, if they like.

I read that when we aren’t ourselves it cheapens us in our minds
Impurity
What happened?
How can we be whole?
I can feel it in the way we walk, the set of our face
It’s brittle
I don’t want to hear this
But I know
There are two of us, at least
How did they get hear and how can they meet?
Do, would they want to meet?
No collective
Convoluted
Aristocratic
Humble
Open
Stern
That word
Stern.